


there can be a way (just choose it, please)

by The_Moon_Writer



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Papyrus Remembers Resets, Papyrus-centric, Sans is aware of Resets, Suicidal Ideation, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Worried Papyrus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 07:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7881928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Moon_Writer/pseuds/The_Moon_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was sad, Papyrus thought, watching his brother stare at nothing, lost in his own world.</p>
<p>It was sad, and so he decided to be the older brother - at least this once. No matter how little time he has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there can be a way (just choose it, please)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoldenDusk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenDusk/gifts).



> for @papyrus-knows, who wanted a story where "Papyrus angsts over Sans thinking he's a naive baby." it's not totally like that, but i hope it suffices.  
> i worked on this for /weeks/. hopefully it suits your taste. if not, please tell me anything that you didn't like.
> 
> warning: this is not how i actually view any of these characters. my interpretation is a bit different. however, for the sake of plot (if you can even call it that), they are like this.
> 
> if something looks funny to you, please let me know! it'll help me a lot.
> 
> please check the additional tags before proceeding. thank you!

It was a morning like every other.

Papyrus got up, showered, dressed, arranged his books neatly, and decided to make pancakes with chocolate chip, something Alphys had taught him while they were both at Undyne’s house one day. (Judging by her sleepy eyes and sleepwear, she and Undyne must have had a sleepover gushing over anime the night before--something Papyrus honestly couldn’t understand.)

His brother came down later, mumbling under his breath and rubbing his eye sockets, grinning tiredly. Papyrus bid him good morning and served him breakfast, giving Sans the syrup bottle, knowing full well he would just drown the pancakes with it.

And then it wasn’t a morning like every other.

Sans was distracted, that was for sure. And it unnerved Papyrus, the way he mindlessly ate the semi-sweet chocolate chip pancakes ( _without_ the syrup!) without cracking a pun, or even just _talking_. It was like he was there and yet... _not_.

And that kind of scared Papyrus. Just a bit.

Other than that, though, the morning continued as normal.

Until Papyrus hesitated at the doorstep, glancing to his left at his brother. Sans was shuffling on his feet, looking worn out. Still, he smiled widely at Papyrus when he noticed, patting his back feebly.

“Hey, what’s up? Not getting cold feet, are you?”

“As if!” Papyrus immediately retorted, swinging the door widely and practically jumping out into the frigid air. “The Great Papyrus _never_ gets cold feet! Especially since we skeletons don’t even _have_ the ability _to_ get cold feet!”

Sans chuckled, closing the door and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Oh, I can think of a _ton_ of ways I got cold feet. A _skele-ton_.”

“Brother, please,” Papyrus sighed, “stop making such horrid jokes and get to work!”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Sans saluted, winking, before making his way to his sentry post.

His brother was fine, Papyrus decided, watching his brother. And if he wasn’t, then Papyrus would make sure to help as much as he could.

\---

The world stuttered and crashed a few weeks later.

\---

It was a morning like every other.

Papyrus got up, showered, dressed, arranged his books neatly, and decided to make pancakes with chocolate chip, something Alphys had taught him while they were both at Undyne’s house one day. (Judging by her sleepy eyes and sleepwear, she and Undyne must have had a sleepover gushing over anime the night before--something Papyrus honestly couldn’t understand.)

And then he stopped.

...This sort of felt familiar. Why did it feel familiar? Sure, he technically does the same routine--gets up, showers, dresses, arranges _something_ \--but...it felt different than the other times. He couldn’t even put it down into words.

His brother came down later, mumbling under his breath and rubbing his eye sockets, grinning tiredly. As he tried to take a seat, however, Papyrus grabbed him and spinned him around, steadying him when Sans started swaying dangerously.

“Wh-whoa, okay,” Sans muttered, wincing and raising a hand to his skull. He looked up at Papyrus, grin in place, but the eyebrow ridges narrowing in worry. “Uh, what’s wrong, bro?”

Papyrus said nothing, just continuing to study his brother as close as he could. He noted the darken shadows under his eye sockets, and the way he reeked of something-- _dirty_. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Are you alright, brother?” Papyrus asked suddenly, now giving a more stern look and firmly grasping at Sans. Sans, in turn, almost jumped at the question, looking a bit more skittish than five seconds ago.

“Uh--y-yeah, I’m fine, bro,” Sans reassured. “What made you think anything less?”

Papyrus paused, hesitating. What _did_ make him think any less? Especially since he didn’t even know _what_ was wrong until he spun Sans around. The only thing that showed him what was wrong was his--

“You…you’re looking more _off_ than usual today, Sans,” he finally said, carefully looking him over once more. “Honestly, I can’t quite place it, but everything just feels...off.”

Sans pulled a strange face. “Off?”

“Off,” Papyrus confirmed. “Like everything has happened before.”

“...It’s probably just déjà vu or something, Paps,” Sans said, face unreadable. “Considering that you have a routine, it just makes the most sense.”

_But this is different,_ Papyrus wanted to insist. But he knew it wouldn’t change Sans’ mind, so he sighed and relented. “I suppose you’re right. I must’ve been dreaming about the future!” he lied, smiling brightly. “It seems like the deities of the world wanted to show me, the coolest of skeletons, what would happen right after I woke up!”

Sans definitely relaxed then, smiling softly. “Yeah, totally.”

\---

That night, Papyrus waited for his brother to come home from Grillby’s.

When he _did_ come home, he was mumbling something under his breath, looking lost in his own world. His feet only beheld one slipper, the other in his left hand.

He looked like a _mess_.

Maybe he _was_ a mess.

“Oh, Sans…” Papyrus murmured, looking at him sadly. Sans mumbled something again, skull downward to the floor as he fiddled with his slipper. He looked nervous, and rather frantic, too. Papyrus wondered if this was a result of what had happened in the morning.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Perhaps then Sans wouldn’t try to drink himself to death.

Papyrus ushered him to the bathroom and gathered some medicine for the hangover Sans would surely have tomorrow.

\---

Sans had apologized and promised to not do that to Papyrus again almost the moment he awoke, Papyrus by his side the entire time. But when Papyrus asked him why he did it in the first place, Sans grew quiet for a minute.

“It’s...well…” he had said hesitantly, before sighing and slumping into his bed. “Bro, I don’t want to trouble you, that’s all. Please don’t take it personally.”

Papyrus had given him a warm smile and reassured him as much as he could. _Of course_ The Great Papyrus understands! He won’t take it personally at all! Oh, and, Sans, for goodness sake, _pick up your sock! I see it at the bottom right corner of the room, you can’t hide it from me!_

Sans had brightened up at that.

But Papyrus didn’t.

\---

Sans didn’t go to Grillby’s so late at night anymore. Even though he hated promises, it still looked like he was trying to make it up to Papyrus.

Somehow, Papyrus got through to him. He was happy, albeit still a bit confused and disappointed. He didn't mention it, though, as that would just be silly.

\---

The world stuttered, but it did not crash.

\---

That night, Papyrus waited for his brother to come home from Grillby’s.

And then he knew it wasn’t just déjà vu, even if he still didn’t have all the pieces.

That just meant it was part of a bigger puzzle.

When Sans came home, drunk off his butt, Papyrus gave him what he needed and swiftly went to bed. It pained him, it did, but he just...needed to. He couldn’t explain it, but it was in his non-existent guts.

And later on, Sans did not stop.

\---

On such a night, Sans was talking smart, for some reason. Is that even possible, anyway? Can you even talk with intellect while drunk? There was no way Papyrus would know--he never drank, and Undyne was just very loud and aggressive when she had her own glass. Well, even more than normal.

He explained theories both humans _and_ monsters had came up with, together or separately, and and talking on and on and _on_ about the history of some other science-y stuff. He kept flinging his hands around, stammering out sentences. Then, he mentioned something that rang a small bell in Papyrus’ mind, something very fuzzy.

He pushed it aside and focused on Sans, who was now lying on the ground forlornly, still speaking.

And--and _well_ , it was _sad_. It was _sad_ to see Sans like this, the big brother he usually looked up to. He never wanted this for Sans. He never wanted him to bottle _any_ thing up. It saddened him that Sans couldn’t be honest with him.

So, he decided to be the older brother. Just this once.

\---

The world stuttered and crashed, but it did not deter Papyrus at all.

  
\---

He swiftly gathered his wits before waiting for Sans at the bottom of the stairs. He needed to do this as quickly as possible.

His brother came down later than normal, slow in his steps. When he was an arms length away from Papyrus, he was hurriedly grabbed and was going back up the stairs again.

“Whoa! Hey!” Sans called out, sounding slightly panicked. Papyrus ignored him, determined to finish what he had started.

He opened the door to his room, setting Sans down on his racecar bed. Sans blinked, looking weirded out as Papyrus disappeared into the hallway.

And then when Papyrus decided to bring back some tea bags and cups from the kitchen, Sans decided that he had had enough.

“Bro, what is going on? What's wrong?” Sans said, standing up to try to stop Papyrus from making tea.

“No, Sans. Sit down while I serve it,” Papyrus said firmly, putting a hand on Sans’ shoulder. Sans went slack in surprise, and Papyrus steered him back to the bed. After all, this was of utmost importance. It certainly won't do if he let Sans do whatever he wanted.

Sans stayed quiet as Papyrus finally got everything ready. There were two cups full of hot jasmine tea for both brothers, but ultimately, all for Sans if the need ever arises. Papyrus kind of hoped for the need to arise. It would mean he was talking to Papyrus.

Sans picked up the cup, unsure, while Papyrus sat on top of the bed with him, staring at him defiantly. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, Sans looking at the cup in his hand, sliding his eyelights toward Papyrus before hurriedly looking down again, and Papyrus scrutinizing his brother for signs of anything bad. And as he kept finding them, he grew more and more worried.

“...Is everything okay, Papyrus? You're not acting like yourself,” Sans muttered, eyes growing sad and anxious.

Papyrus blinked, puzzled, before huffing indignantly. “Brother, I am completely fine, thank you. But it’s _me_ that should be asking _you_ if _you're_ okay.”

Sans chuckled, sounding strain. “Well, if you really wanna know, I'm bone-fide good right now--”

“Sans, stop.” Papyrus put his hands onto Sans’ shoulder again. “This is not the time for puns. I'm concerned, I really am.”

“Bro, _really_ , I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me--”

“I have the _right_ to be worried!” Papyrus snapped.

And then silence.

Sans stared at his cup, and Papyrus deflated. “Sans, I--You can talk to me, you know? _Please_ talk to me.”

Excuses tumbled out of Sans, heavy and dull. Papyrus relented, but he kept telling himself to try.

\---

Papyrus worked quietly, wrapping the bottom of Sans’ chipped radius and ulna with trembling phalanges. Dust fell each time he wrapped a layer, and he let out a shaky sigh.

“This is nothing, Paps,” Sans had told him when he saw the damage. “It doesn't hurt anymore, promise.”

Papyrus had breathed in deeply, trying to hide his horror, before saying, “Let me clean your wounds.”

Sans had seemed to also have a small mental war with himself before holding out the worst of his injuries, facing the floor and shuffling his feet.

Papyrus checked for more injuries after dealing with the first one, and he inhaled sharply at them all.

He cleaned and wrapped every one, letting not one escape from his eye, while Sans watched on blankly.

\---

“So…” Undyne started carefully, watching Papyrus closely. They were sitting at her table, two cups of hot tea ready to be drank. “Sans is...not feeling well?”

He never said anything like  _that_ , but he nodded anyway. “Yes. I'm really afraid of what's going to happen in the near future…”

Undyne looked anxious, nursing her drink. “Well...I mean…” she muttered. “...I think that…Sans will have to go soon.”

Papyrus didn't like where the conversation was going, but he decided to press on. “What do you mean?”

“Like…” Undyne searched for the right words. She hastily grabbed her phone from the table and looked through it for a while.

The silence was suffocating.

Just when Papyrus was going to tell her to _please_ continue, she said, “I'm, um, thinking of...allowing him…” She checked her phone one more time, frowning. “...to go on a vacation, if the need ever arises.”

“Vacation?”

“Uh, yeah! You know, to help him. To...to the point where it might be _very_ long.” Undyne clenched the table cloth tightly.

Papyrus connected the puzzle pieces quickly. He felt faint. “O-oh,” he muttered. He didn't want to talk about it. At all. Better to fake he misunderstood it than to actually acknowledged he knew what she was referring to. “W-well, then I...I guess it's okay.”

\---

Weeks passed, and it was scary for Papyrus.

\--

“Golly, that sure seems rough.” Flowey--or at least, that's what the flower told Papyrus to call him by--bounced back and forth on his stem. “Having to do most of the work because your big brother couldn't do it! What an outrage.”

Papyrus let the hidden insult slip past for now. They _had_ only just met a week ago. He could deal with a little misconception, at least until Flowey understood the whole picture.

“Oh, no, not at all! I'm allowing it. I told Sans to let me take care of him.”

“But are you _sure_ all of your help isn't in vain?” Flowey pressed. “What if he reverts back to his old ways? What if he's still doing it?”

Papyrus hesitated, pondering the question. Sans had been doing nothing except holing himself up in his room, only coming out when Papyrus persuaded him to. He kept an eye on his brother, but he knew that just because he stopped him then didn't mean he stopped it for good.

That, and Sans is becoming even more distance, something Papyrus was now afraid of.

“You know,” Flowey said thoughtfully, looking at Papyrus, “I might know the reason why he's like this.”

Papyrus snapped his head toward Flowey, voice rising as he cried, “Really?! Please! Tell me! I…” His voice cracked, and he continued, “I don't know what else to do…”

Flowey leaned in, looking innocent.

_As if_ he was.

\---

“Nothing matters, Papyrus, you know?” Sans said a few days later. He was sitting on the couch, eyelights clouded enough to not even see the television. “One day...one day everything will be the same--as if nothing had happened.”

“Sans…” Papyrus murmured, cross-legged next to Sans. He steadied his breathing. “Do...do you mean the...Resets?” he asked carefully.

Sans’ response was immediate. He started, a large shudder running through him. He turned to look at Papyrus, eye sockets wide with fear and alarm. “Resets? Wh-what do you mean _resets_?”

“Resets,” Papyrus repeated, more firmly this time. “The ones that make everything...repeat again.” That one lesson with Flowey _really_ struck a chord with him.

Sans froze, as if _now_ understanding what Papyrus really meant. “B-bro,” he said weakly, “Resets...R-Resets like that are only for _games_. They don't mean a lot.”

Papyrus drew back, hurt. He couldn't believe Sans was straight up _lying_ to him. Flowey proved it himself when he--

“Sans, you know very well what I'm talking about! What you _kept_ from me! I'm--I'm not a child, anymore!”

Sans flinched.

Papyrus quieted down, but his resolve continued. “I'm just trying to _help_ you, brother. You don't _have_ to keep me sheltered. Please, _rely on me_.”

“But, Papyrus, I'm _okay_ , I'm--”

“You're not okay.”

It took a moment or two, the both of them staring at each other, all the love and hurt and _agony_ bare-faced, but Sans finally broke down, big, fat tears slowly streaming down his face. He practically jumped toward Papyrus, burying his skull into his brother’s clothes.

Papyrus let him, hugging him tightly. As softly as he could, he said, “You know I'm always here for you, right?”

Sans kept silent, only letting out sobs and broken words. And Papyrus allowed it.

\---

_“See, you never remembered because I never let you remember,” Flowey explained. “But somehow, in some way, you became...more determined. Not enough to Reset or Reload, but enough to just...know.”_

_“And...and Sans can remember, too?”_

_Flowey snorted. “Psh, from what I know? I doubt it--I bet he relies heavily on the reports he has. I think he made a small journal, too?” Flowey considered the idea. “Yeah, I think he writes ‘very important’ information in it during the course of a run. With just those resources, there's hardly any way to actually ‘remember’ anything at all! And besides, you guys weren't even interesting for a long while until recently.”_

_Papyrus stared at his broken arm, cracked in several places.“...Is it ever bad?”_

_“Oh, no, it's never bad!” Flowey assured, smiling. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, and when the time comes, no one will be able to tell you did something. They'll never remember if you did anything good, noble, or even if you were just plain...evil.” Sharp, rigid teeth grew, and he became more sinister to Papyrus. “But it's not actually bad, because it doesn't stick. You know?”_

_No, I don't actually know. Papyrus took a deep breath. “If...if I ever ask...would you ever Reset for me, Flowey?”_

_The flower seemed to think about it, but nodded all the same. “Well, if you don't grow too annoying, then sure! I'd love to help a friend out. Especially a friend that can now recall a bunch of stuff from before!”_

\---

Three days passed.

Papyrus got up, showered, dressed, decided _not_ to arrange anything, and went out of his room.

He made pancakes and waited for his brother to come down. He figured that since Sans had been coming down on his own the last few days, he didn't need to be there telling Sans to get up and eat.

Sans didn't come down.

Papyrus went upstairs and to Sans’ bedroom, his call for breakfast already on his teeth as he opened Sans’ door.

The room was dark, smelly, and gross. Dust flew, only visible by the light from the hallway. Papyrus flipped the lightswitch to reveal the room.

The thing that stood out the most was a dusty, dusty makeshift bed.

And now, there was nothing else left to say.

**Author's Note:**

> boy howdy i'm really bad at this huh.
> 
> if you believe i missed a tag or need to take one out, lemme know.
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
